Big Bang Fic: The Red Leather Trousers Escapade (17/17)
Title: The Red Leather Trousers Escapade (17/17)
Author: wingedflight21
Rating: K+
Word Count: ~24K
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia do not, never have, and most likely never will belong to me.
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Occurs in an AU of The Silver Chair.
Author's Notes: A huge thanks to snitchnipped, rthstewart, and especially accidentalsquid as well as anyone else who helped me through these last few months and numerous chapters.
Summary: An assassination attempt gone wrong sends Jill and Eustace off to solve the mystery behind the attacks, all while playing dead. SCAUverse.
-X-
Epilogue
-X-
Three knocks on the door, a pause, and then one more.
Jill didn’t even bother to look up from her unpacking. “By entering this room, you are agreeing to keep your hands off anything that may emerge from this trunk.”
A moment’s silence met her words. Then, Eustace’s voice from the doorway: “Lion, Jill. Not even a beaver could be as meticulous about unpacking as you are.”
She grinned, folding the tunic in her hands and setting it on the corner of her bed before finally turning around. Eustace was leaning up against the door-frame, a lazy smirk on his face as he surveyed the pile of clothing she’d already set out across her bed. “It’s your fault,” she retorted, “If you hadn’t made such a mess of things the past two trips -“
He held his hands up in defeat. “I was only trying to help! I’d thought you wanted someone else to help with unpacking.”
“Help with unpacking, yes. Leave clothes draped across every surface? No.”
He sauntered forward until he was close enough to the bed to touch the clothes if he so wanted. She kept an eye on him, just in case.
“My shoulder’s feeling better.”
It was a comfort to hear. Jill couldn’t suppress the sigh of relief at that, for though the wound itself had begun to heal not long after it was first received, the muscles had still pained Eustace the entire sea-journey home. “The healers were able to help, then?”
“Apparently, dryad magic works wonders for knotted muscles.” He stretched his arm forward as if to prove a point, his hand moving a little too close to her clothes for comfort, before finally dropping it to his side again.
“I am glad. It was really hurting you.”
“That, and I am abysmal at doing anything with my left hand.” He paused, watching her as she shook out another dress, examined it carefully, and dropped it into the pile for laundering. “Setev was looking for you in the orchard.”
“Oh dear Aslan, no.”
He laughed at her expression and Jill made a face at him. At least she did not have to explain just why she did not wish to hear of the mongoose, nor have to ask Eustace to please keep her whereabouts a secret. It had been hard enough to be followed around by an always cheerful and talkative mongoose during the rest of their stay in Halua; that Setev had chosen to travel to Narnia, keeping them company the entire journey home, had been more than she could bear. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the mongoose. He was just, as Eustace had commented earlier, too much to handle in large doses.
“I did manage to distract him by mentioning the squirrels in the hollow,” Eustace continued. “I have a feeling he’ll be occupied with getting to know them for quite some time.”
“I do hope,” Jill said forcefully, “they make him an honorary squirrel. It would mean the world to him.”
He laughed again. “That it would.”
There was another pause, during which Jill pulled out two tunics that had gotten tangled together, and Eustace reached out to help and she swatted him away because she just knew what would happen if she let him start bending the rules. He pulled back and pouted momentarily, and then commented as a thought struck him, “We were awfully lucky, weren’t we?”
“Mm-hm,” she responded, caught up in pulling the tunics apart. Both ended up in the laundering pile.
“Thank Aslan we got through it relatively unscathed.”
She reached back into the trunk.
“And thank Aslan it didn’t drag on for weeks.”
Jill pulled out a pair of boots and set them down on the floor at her side.
“And,” Eustace added significantly, “Thank Aslan I never have to see those red trousers again.” He shuddered at the very thought.
Jill studied his face and then glanced down into her trunk. Deliberately, she reached in and pulled out the last article of clothing the trunk contained.
Eustace flinched and then lunged towards her. Jill danced out of the way just in time, triumphantly waving the red leather trousers over her head like a banner. “You promised not to touch!” she crowed, “You promised not to set a hand on anything that emerged from that trunk.”
“I’m sure I did,” he spluttered, and lunged again.
-X-
Lucy,
Ambassador Glozelle returned to Narnia with us, and it was there that he was held on trial for his crimes. We learned he had been planning his “solution” to the trade negotiations for months and it was only the presence of myself and Eustace that had proven an obstacle. That was why he wished to assassinate us; as distasteful as he claimed murder was to him, the prospect of losing his potential island retirement was apparently even worse.
As for Setev, he also returned with us to Narnia. In the years that followed, he never lost his cheerful, talkative persona. He moved into the hollow in Cair Paravel, where he met and married a lovely young squirrel. They had seven pups - we’re confused, too.
Isak was involved in drafting the trade agreement between Halua and Narnia. He had an aptitude for negotiation. Eustace and I weren’t too surprised - after all, it isn’t every day a stranger convinces us both to get drunk. Three years after the incident, he married the daughter of the new ambassador and moved to Narnia, where he set up a successful Haluan-style hat shop. When we left, business was booming and his oldest child had already developed a keen interest in the art of hat-making. Isak couldn’t have been prouder.
Tankana stayed in Halua. She was also involved in the trade agreements to a lesser degree and eventually received a position as assistant to the harbour-master. Last we heard, she was planning to take over the position within the year and had become engaged to a fellow Haluan named Lonko. The lucky man had originally been vying for the same position before conceding defeat and proposing instead.
And what of Teriko? Always a free spirit, she became an island guide after the trade agreement opened Halua to a lucrative tourist market. As far as we know, she never even considered marriage and was perfectly content that way.
And, well, you know what happened with Eustace and I.
In conclusion, I do hope this helps answer your original question about the origins of the annual Burning of the Trousers celebration in Narnia.
Until next time, and may Aslan watch over you,
Jill
-X-
Lucy - There are no words to say how satisfying the first annual Burning of the Trousers was. Cheers. - Eustace
-X-
End.
-X-
Author’s Note:
And so we learn that the red leather trousers were not just A plot-point, but THE plot-point.
Special thanks to a bunch of wonderful people who helped turn this story from a what-if scenario in the back of my mind to the full-length fic that it is.
First: To the ladies at narniaexchange on livejournal for hosting the Narnia Big Bang Challenge. If it weren’t for this, I don’t know if I would have dared to write something so long.
Second: To everyone who was willing to talk with me about plot points, read through scenes, and keep me motivated to keep writing. Special thanks especially to snitchnipped, rthstewart, and irl friend Nicole.
Third: To my wonderful artist, caitriona_3. It has been such a thrill to have someone create artwork based on something I’ve written.
Fourth: A special thank-you to accidentalsquid, suburb friend and instigator. Jay was my go-to person when I needed to talk things over or whine about characters or moan in despair over the fact that I needed a first draft completed in two days and still had several chapters to go. Not to mention all the times we were howling together because we’d managed to come up with a great set of dialogue that so-often wormed its way into the final product. I do not hesitate to say that this was going to be a really serious and introspective story until Jay started convincing me to put the humour in. Whoops.
Finally: To my readers, both of this story and previous fics. You make my world go round.
- WingedFlight
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Epilogue|
Author: wingedflight21
Rating: K+
Word Count: ~24K
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia do not, never have, and most likely never will belong to me.
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Occurs in an AU of The Silver Chair.
Author's Notes: A huge thanks to snitchnipped, rthstewart, and especially accidentalsquid as well as anyone else who helped me through these last few months and numerous chapters.
Summary: An assassination attempt gone wrong sends Jill and Eustace off to solve the mystery behind the attacks, all while playing dead. SCAUverse.
-X-
Epilogue
-X-
Three knocks on the door, a pause, and then one more.
Jill didn’t even bother to look up from her unpacking. “By entering this room, you are agreeing to keep your hands off anything that may emerge from this trunk.”
A moment’s silence met her words. Then, Eustace’s voice from the doorway: “Lion, Jill. Not even a beaver could be as meticulous about unpacking as you are.”
She grinned, folding the tunic in her hands and setting it on the corner of her bed before finally turning around. Eustace was leaning up against the door-frame, a lazy smirk on his face as he surveyed the pile of clothing she’d already set out across her bed. “It’s your fault,” she retorted, “If you hadn’t made such a mess of things the past two trips -“
He held his hands up in defeat. “I was only trying to help! I’d thought you wanted someone else to help with unpacking.”
“Help with unpacking, yes. Leave clothes draped across every surface? No.”
He sauntered forward until he was close enough to the bed to touch the clothes if he so wanted. She kept an eye on him, just in case.
“My shoulder’s feeling better.”
It was a comfort to hear. Jill couldn’t suppress the sigh of relief at that, for though the wound itself had begun to heal not long after it was first received, the muscles had still pained Eustace the entire sea-journey home. “The healers were able to help, then?”
“Apparently, dryad magic works wonders for knotted muscles.” He stretched his arm forward as if to prove a point, his hand moving a little too close to her clothes for comfort, before finally dropping it to his side again.
“I am glad. It was really hurting you.”
“That, and I am abysmal at doing anything with my left hand.” He paused, watching her as she shook out another dress, examined it carefully, and dropped it into the pile for laundering. “Setev was looking for you in the orchard.”
“Oh dear Aslan, no.”
He laughed at her expression and Jill made a face at him. At least she did not have to explain just why she did not wish to hear of the mongoose, nor have to ask Eustace to please keep her whereabouts a secret. It had been hard enough to be followed around by an always cheerful and talkative mongoose during the rest of their stay in Halua; that Setev had chosen to travel to Narnia, keeping them company the entire journey home, had been more than she could bear. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the mongoose. He was just, as Eustace had commented earlier, too much to handle in large doses.
“I did manage to distract him by mentioning the squirrels in the hollow,” Eustace continued. “I have a feeling he’ll be occupied with getting to know them for quite some time.”
“I do hope,” Jill said forcefully, “they make him an honorary squirrel. It would mean the world to him.”
He laughed again. “That it would.”
There was another pause, during which Jill pulled out two tunics that had gotten tangled together, and Eustace reached out to help and she swatted him away because she just knew what would happen if she let him start bending the rules. He pulled back and pouted momentarily, and then commented as a thought struck him, “We were awfully lucky, weren’t we?”
“Mm-hm,” she responded, caught up in pulling the tunics apart. Both ended up in the laundering pile.
“Thank Aslan we got through it relatively unscathed.”
She reached back into the trunk.
“And thank Aslan it didn’t drag on for weeks.”
Jill pulled out a pair of boots and set them down on the floor at her side.
“And,” Eustace added significantly, “Thank Aslan I never have to see those red trousers again.” He shuddered at the very thought.
Jill studied his face and then glanced down into her trunk. Deliberately, she reached in and pulled out the last article of clothing the trunk contained.
Eustace flinched and then lunged towards her. Jill danced out of the way just in time, triumphantly waving the red leather trousers over her head like a banner. “You promised not to touch!” she crowed, “You promised not to set a hand on anything that emerged from that trunk.”
“I’m sure I did,” he spluttered, and lunged again.
-X-
Lucy,
Ambassador Glozelle returned to Narnia with us, and it was there that he was held on trial for his crimes. We learned he had been planning his “solution” to the trade negotiations for months and it was only the presence of myself and Eustace that had proven an obstacle. That was why he wished to assassinate us; as distasteful as he claimed murder was to him, the prospect of losing his potential island retirement was apparently even worse.
As for Setev, he also returned with us to Narnia. In the years that followed, he never lost his cheerful, talkative persona. He moved into the hollow in Cair Paravel, where he met and married a lovely young squirrel. They had seven pups - we’re confused, too.
Isak was involved in drafting the trade agreement between Halua and Narnia. He had an aptitude for negotiation. Eustace and I weren’t too surprised - after all, it isn’t every day a stranger convinces us both to get drunk. Three years after the incident, he married the daughter of the new ambassador and moved to Narnia, where he set up a successful Haluan-style hat shop. When we left, business was booming and his oldest child had already developed a keen interest in the art of hat-making. Isak couldn’t have been prouder.
Tankana stayed in Halua. She was also involved in the trade agreements to a lesser degree and eventually received a position as assistant to the harbour-master. Last we heard, she was planning to take over the position within the year and had become engaged to a fellow Haluan named Lonko. The lucky man had originally been vying for the same position before conceding defeat and proposing instead.
And what of Teriko? Always a free spirit, she became an island guide after the trade agreement opened Halua to a lucrative tourist market. As far as we know, she never even considered marriage and was perfectly content that way.
And, well, you know what happened with Eustace and I.
In conclusion, I do hope this helps answer your original question about the origins of the annual Burning of the Trousers celebration in Narnia.
Until next time, and may Aslan watch over you,
Jill
-X-
Lucy - There are no words to say how satisfying the first annual Burning of the Trousers was. Cheers. - Eustace
-X-
End.
-X-
Author’s Note:
And so we learn that the red leather trousers were not just A plot-point, but THE plot-point.
Special thanks to a bunch of wonderful people who helped turn this story from a what-if scenario in the back of my mind to the full-length fic that it is.
First: To the ladies at narniaexchange on livejournal for hosting the Narnia Big Bang Challenge. If it weren’t for this, I don’t know if I would have dared to write something so long.
Second: To everyone who was willing to talk with me about plot points, read through scenes, and keep me motivated to keep writing. Special thanks especially to snitchnipped, rthstewart, and irl friend Nicole.
Third: To my wonderful artist, caitriona_3. It has been such a thrill to have someone create artwork based on something I’ve written.
Fourth: A special thank-you to accidentalsquid, suburb friend and instigator. Jay was my go-to person when I needed to talk things over or whine about characters or moan in despair over the fact that I needed a first draft completed in two days and still had several chapters to go. Not to mention all the times we were howling together because we’d managed to come up with a great set of dialogue that so-often wormed its way into the final product. I do not hesitate to say that this was going to be a really serious and introspective story until Jay started convincing me to put the humour in. Whoops.
Finally: To my readers, both of this story and previous fics. You make my world go round.
- WingedFlight
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Epilogue|